Fairy Godbrothers
by GwennielOfNargothrond
Summary: Daydreamer and fantasy-fan, the Noldor-fangirl Gwenniel has once proclaimed that she wouldn't mind sharing house with Celegorm and Curufin. Ha! After her wishes come true, she realises that, much like what happened with Finrod, there is a chance she will come to regret her words. Proud Noldorin princes will not bow to a mere mortal. Part of the Plush Toy Collaboration.
1. A huge box! The events gets started

_Disclaimers and A/N: This concept - the Plushie Project - is not of my own creation. It is a product of the great minds of CrackinAndProudOfIt and Duilin. If you want to know more about it, contact them, because I have merely taken part in the project by writing down my own version of the strange Tolkien-inspired occurance of "a life sized Elfin plushie starts bunking on your couch"._

_If you think Gwenniel - obviously not a Tolkien character - seems like a Mary-Sue, I hope that you will tell me so. She is me and I am her - Gwenniel is what I am known on deviantart, for example. And I am in no way a Mary-Sue myself, but you always have to be careful with author-inserts.  
__Be relieved: "Gwenniel" is not to become a romantic interest - in fact no one will. Except maybe Celegorm because he's just too swoonworthy. =P _

* * *

Chapter 1 - A huge box! The events gets started

The regular morning in a Finnish suburb of the quieter kind, was abruptly disturbed as a truck turned to the lane, blocking cars and early dog-walkers as it stopped by the white gate and dropped off a box looking bag, or was it a bag booking box, but it was big nonetheless, a luggage one would take along only if one was going for a very long journey or going to smuggle kittens.

Gwenniel was already awake when the beeping of the backing truck started. In truth, Gwenniel was no morning person, but even as the bad sleeping habits she had lately come to develop kept her awake to 2am, she still woke up 9am at the latest. Thus, putting aside her phone in which she had been doing some research, she decided she could as well quit her bedroom and go see where the beeping came from.

"What's with the noise outside?" she greeted her mother as she came to the kitchen, still swinging due to low blood pressure.

"A big delivery, it seems," her mother replied, teacup in hand, as she stood by the window, watching outside with a frown on her face. The boxy bag had now been left on the half-melted snow-patch on the lawn next to the driveway.

Gwenniel frowned as well. "Has dad ordered something that big?"

"Not that I know of," her mother sighed. "Listen, I'm going to take the dog for a walk now. You have breakfast, and we'll see if we unpack that trunk later or wait until dad gets home."

Gwenniel nodded. As she started toasting her bread, her mother finished her tea and put on her coat. Calling out a bye! to her daughter, she put the dog on a leash and left. As Gwenniel started to eat the bread, now toasted, the door opened again.

"Gwen?"

"Yes?"

"I checked on the box. The address is ours, but there are no names on it."

"Okay."

"And it's not delivered from within Finland, I think. So if anyone calls, they might be asking for the box. Just so you know."

"Okay, mum."

The door slammed shut. Gwen went on with her bread eating, pondering on what to do today. Studying, drawing fanart, studying, cello, computer. Same as usual it seemed. Great: nothing like a systematic schedule. She placed her plate and empty glass in the dishwasher, went to her room, changed to her everyday clothes and picked up her phone:

_Big box dropped off on our yard. It's not even meant for us. =P I hope it gets picked up soon by its rightful owner. _

* * *

Living in this small suburb in Finland, Gwenniel was a girl who possessed several of the traits you would expect from somebody of her age and gender. She would within a matter of months hopefully be granted the chance of becoming a university Freshman, but not letting the upcoming entrance exams disturb her too much, she was generally preoccupied by the internet connection on her phone and literature. One of those less-expected traits that were characteristic to Gwenniel was that she was one of those lucky people to know what the Silmarillion was about. This had become her advantage in making online friends, but also her disadvantage as she became obsessed in the Elfin kind and overall becoming very selective in what she would read and not read.

* * *

The knock came too soon for it to be her mother to return from the morning walk. Besides, Gwen reasoned, why would mum knock. Half anxious, she peeked out the window, wondering whether she should pretend nobody was home. Not that she was afraid or anything, she just... was hardly able to carry out unexpected live conversations with strangers. But crouching behind the window, she saw two young men standing outside the front door. And one of them noticed her. _Dammit_, she thought and sunk down to her knees. Now there was no point in pretending anything. Thoughts rushing through her head, the realisation of that these men in their winter coats and long hair were probably here after the box that had arrived, made sense. Curious looking guys really: Gwen hadn't seen the two men that well - she wasn't wearing glasses and had been hiding behind the flowerpots on the window shelf anyway - but the young men had had something about them, something else besides the long hair falling below their shoulders from beneath their hats, something else besides the fact that the guys looked handsome enough to be Elves or something, (because, no, Gwenniel had not checked them out, no way - she just happened to love fantasy literature, especially that by professor Tolkien, so Elves were naturally on the to of her mind).

Drawing deep breath, opening the door, wondering whether the men spoke Finnish, Swedish, both or neither (Gwen's family lived in a bilingual, yet mainly Swedish-speaking suburb – choosing a language was one of those daily niggles), she opened the door and smiled best as she could at the strangers outside her house.  
"Hei," she said. Yes, that is a common, casual, polite enough greeting Gwenniel uses even for strangers one had never met before. And it was very convenient, too, because the greeting meant the same and sounded the same both in Swedish and Finnish.

The men, one with golden curly locks, the other (the one who had seen her in the window) with dark straight hair, turned both to look at her.  
The blonde man gave her a dazzling smile. "_Huomenta_!" he bade good morning in fluent Finnish. Gwen was glad - the language barrier had been overcome.

"Can I help you?" she asked, still clinging to the door she hadn't opened all the way up.

"Our belongings came here, so naturally we would follow," the blonde replied. "I hope you are ready."

"Sorry?"

"You accepted us to come to stay with you." The stranger really looked confused and he turned to look at his comrade who merely shrugged.

"I am sorry," Gwenniel replied, just as confused. "I don't know anything about anyone staying with us, my dad's not home, and I don't know your names, I'm afraid..."

"Oh, I beg your pardon," the man turned back to her, smiling again. "You remember how you accepted our visit, because you are Gwenniel, aren't you?" he suddenly looked worried, but smiled again as the girl nodded in reply. "Well here we are, as in living person as circumstances allow. Celegorm and Curufin, sons of Fëanor of the Noldor of the Eldar!"

It took a moment to decipher the pragmatic meaning of the statement. But then it all made sense. And Gwenniel's head was spinning.

* * *

"Two elves need your help; give a hand and a home. Adopt today." _  
_

_The ad again. The cursor arrow immediately clicked the "x" in the right-hand corner of the persistent square that had been popping up the whole session. I don't have time for this! Gwenniel grumbled. All she had planned to do on the internet was to check up a factual detail on the Kalmar Union so that she could go back to studying for her finals in History. Being pursued by pesty spam had been the last thing she wanted to do. She clicked her way onto the next page. _"Two elves need your he-"_"No way, they don't! Stop bogging me!" Clicking away ad once again, she tried not to shout at an inanimate object. One last look at the information she had gathered, and she was ready. Sighing in relief, she opened her deviantart message box in another tab. _"Two elves need-" _"Gaah!" she shouted and slammed the keyboard. "Fine, fine, fine, have it your way." She let the white arrow click the button that said "OK". "But it's not okay," she reminded the ad that was happily replaced by another thanking for her generosity - then that ad disappeared as well. Clicking away from the browser altogether, she picked up her History notes and got back to her __books scattered around the room..._

_"That was spamming! What do people do with their lives nowadays? #pissedoff"_

* * *

"Curufin says you need something stronger," Celegorm said referring to the glass of strong liquor that his brother was holding towards the speechless mortal. " It's alcohol, though, and I don't know how you Edain..."

"It's okay, I'm over 18," Gwenniel said and accepted the drink. Actually, she was generally a non-drinker, but actually she generally also didn't have two Noldorin princes sitting in her living room. The drink seemed strong, which it was and Gwen shuddered a bit, but the after-taste was surprisingly good. (The one who had handed it to her was an Elf after all, and anything made by Elves was of course nothing less than superb.) "Um, _hantalë_," Gwenniel said to Curufin, attempting to remember all the phrases she knew in Quenya - not that many actually, as she had always studied the tales more than the tongue. Curufin, however, gave a small smile in approval and replied a long sentence in Elvish.

"My brother says you are welcome," Celegorm translated quickly, "and apologizes of that he doesn't yet know your language, but assures that he will amend the flaw as soon as possible."

Gwenniel nodded and took another sip of the drink, but put down the glass after that, deciding that the drink was probably strong enough to make her drunk sooner than her Elfin guests suspected. (Drunk mortal and two Elves - that is no plot for this story.) "Lord Celegorm," she asked hesitantly, "how come you speak Finnish so fluently, then?"

"That is an easy question," Celegorm replied, with a prideful straightening of his back. "I happen to be omnilingual. I have knowledge of all the tongues of birds and beasts, so obviously Finnish is no problem."

"Obviously," Gwenniel echoed him.

They sat in silence, the Elves examining their surroundings, Gwenniel leaning her head into her hand from the dizziness the liquor had now resulted into and desperately trying to comprehend the situation and thinking of how to entertain her guests, and the fridge in the kitchen making small noises every now and then.

As Celegorm had explained it with the help of Curufin, the page that Gwenniel had clicked away as a mere ad had been all serious. The two Elves needed a home to stay in during their visit to Middle-Earth to prove their redemption. They had been given surrogate-bodies to house them during their stay - Celegorm compared the situation to plushies, because he and his brother, although looking, feeling and working just like real children of Ilúvatar, were actually fëas inhabiting dummies that just had the same bodily functions as Elves. (The Valar would this way have better control of the two of them roaming around Arda, apparently.) When asking how come they were let out from Valinor anyway, Gwenniel had been explained to that in order for them to be released from Mandos, the two sons of Fëanor had been given a task: they must show their kindness towards weaker beings and fulfil deeds of honour and/or goodwill. "Only then can we rejoin our kin in Tirion," Celegorm had said.

"I see," Gwenniel lied. "But how come you want to stay here in my home? Surely there are many others to choose - I mean, not as if I wouldn't be thrilled and honoured to have you here, but..." she trailed of, wondering whether she was blushing. (She was.)

The Elf looked at his brother who shrugged again, not really following the dialogue in the language he did not understand. Celegorm asked something in Quenya to which Curufin replied, looking rather smug. "Because," Celegorm returned back to Gwen and replied earnestly, "you are one of the very few who openly admits that she would not mind having my brother and I living under the same roof as her."

Now there was no more doubt of that Gwenniel certainly was blushing. She looked away, knowing that Celegorm wasn't lying.

These Elves had not always been her favourite characters in her wonderful favourite book called The Silmarillion, but during the past two or three years she had come to accept that she was a fangirl of two of the maybe most infamous Noldorin princes ever. (Pages of fanfic and megabytes of fanart tell no lies.) Of course, every Noldo that had ever lived had a place in her heart, but Celegorm and Curufin were her favourites, especially Celegorm who now stood in front of her, frowning, his hands resting in his hips. Momentarily mesmerised by his shining hair, his glittering eyes, his dazzling aura and the way a dimple was formed when he quirked his lips, Gwenniel had to bite her tongue in order to focus on something else. Because one does not simply stare at an Elfin Lord, thousands of years older than oneself is anyway, Erudammit.

"I said, 'then you'll have to write an evaluation on us to Mandos'," he repeated, as Gwenniel returned from her thoughts.

"You are quite the hackers," the mortal sighed. The blonde Elf lord frowned and his brother looked questioning. "You found me proclaiming loyalty to Noldor on a fanforum, you searched up my name and address, and then you spammed by browser. Now you come to me in your Aulë-made bodies only to live in the guest room for the foreseeable future. Really..." She halted in her monologue by standing up (as she wasn't dizzy anymore) and walking over to the window. "If I were in your situation, I would book a hotel room rather than bunk with some rapid fan who writes fanfiction about me."

Celegorm snorted, highly amused, spoke quickly in Quenya, causing Curufin to laugh as well. "You do not see it?" Celegorm laughed, "The advantages of living with two Eldar who have sworn an Oath to aid the mortal race (because if they don't it'll mean another ten millennia inside the Halls)?"

Gwenniel stood by the window in silence, obviously trying not to think about the advantages - as if this wasn't awkward enough. The large box that contained the Elf Lords' belongings stood still by the driveway. The gate opened and slammed shut as her mother returned home. A tiny bow-wow was soon heard outside the door. Celegorm looked up happy. "Your dog!" he said and opened the front door to let the dog in. The animal rushed in without noticing who the one standing at the door was, until suddenly stopping to sniff the floors of the house and looking up at the Elf. He barked happily (the dog, that is, but soon the Elf as well), and as they greeted each other in their own language, Gwenniel looked at Curufin with a questioning look. Curufin shrugged and rolled his eyes in a "you know how my brother is"-fashion. Gwen grinned back. Actually she had no idea on how Celegorm was asides from what her head-canon told her. But then she shook her head, pulling away the grin, and rushed to the door before her mother would open it.

She peeked out through the door. "Hey mum?" she called her. "I've got a couple of new friends - um, they're guests."

"Okay. Somebody I know?"

"Well..." Gwenniel thought hard. Technically yes, her mother was rather well versed in the stories of the Noldor since she, after all, had read The Silmarillion and lived in the same house as Gwen. But it was still no easy deal to explain that two Noldor would be living in their house because of some pop-up-trolling. "Mum, remember how we once talked about maybe hosting an exchange student? This is basically it, except for that-" She got interrupted by Celegorm and Curufin as they came to take a look outside as well.

"Good morning!" Celegorm said, once again giving one of the smiles. "You must be Gwenniel's mother. I think you've heard about us as well. Allow me to present ourselves: Curufin and I, Celegorm."

Gwenniel quickly interrupted the introduction. "Mum, I know this is kinda strange, but they need a place to stay and we do have a guestroom. And they'll behave and all, and besides... Um... I'm... so it's... Eh, I just meant to ask if they can stay."

"So, suddenly somebody is all eager to let us stay," Celegorm remarked with a laugh. "You should remember that by accepting us in your house we will make a deal that shouldn't be broken. We don't want another Nargothrond incident, do we?"

"No we don't - wait what? Nargothrond?" Gwenniel turned to face the Elves looming behind her, a foot taller than she. Trying to look determined in front of the royal highnesses, she crossed her arms. "If you are going to usurp anything you won't be released from Mandos after all," she said.

"Usurp?" Celegorm gasped theatrically. "Judging by the stories you have written, one would think you know better than anyone that Orodreth's version of the story is nothing but lies."

Gwenniel frowned. No arguing there. Yet she was one to stand behind her principles until the bitter end. "You may be royals, but I will not treat you as such. My house, my rules, Finland is no monarchy, and you depend on me if you want that evaluation for Mandos."

Celegorm sneered and looked just as haughty as one would expect him to look, but after a brief exchange with his brother he sighed. "That is true," he admitted. "We did not come here to conquer lands but to prove our goodwill." Curufin nodded contentedly, causing Gwenniel to suspect it was he who had put those words in his brother's mouth. Which was actually just as well, because Gwenniel's mother was standing near them, observing the debate and finally having her say in the matter.

"Gwen, did you ever actually discuss this idea with dad or me? Or even mention it?"

"No, because it wasn't really my idea, but-"

"If they are to stay here longer-"

"They won't become permanent guests or anything, so-"

"If I had known they would come today I would have went to the store yesterday."

"Mum, I didn't know, and frankly I still don't know how this is even possible-"

"Ladies, ladies, my brother and I will cause no trouble during our stay. Worry not, ma'am, we will go to the store in your stead; fear not, maiden, we shall come to regard you as a sister - the only thing we ask in return is your support in our attempt to be accepted into Valinor in our bodies remade."

Both women fell silent. The younger felt the mesmerised state-of-mind return and quickly shook her head. The older, more sensible one, wondered how on earth this was even possible, though the situation really did confirm her suspicions on the identities of her daughter's favourite Elves.

"Gwenniel," she said at last, "you do know where we keep the bedlinen. Go make ready the guestroom."

There was no need to tell her twice. Gwenniel was already on her way.

_"My mum is cool. Seriously. She's just as awesome as my luck today! :D Yesterday I was an only child, today I have 2 brothers." _

* * *

(to be continued - I swear!)


	2. Only Child, Lonely Child No Longer

_I'm sorry I'm so bad with multi-chapters that you have to wait for updates on stories. To my defence I can reveal that I have other stuff to do, one of them being another lengthier Silmarillion fic I am currently working on. But I promised Crackers I'd post this second chapter in September if not earlier. And earlier it is. _

_I was delighted to see the positive feedback the first chapter received. It took me by surprise! Not as much is yet happening in this second chapter, but it's important in building up the story towards the third chapter which will have so much stuff happening I don't even know when I'll finish writing it. XD _

_Anyway, enjoy! And if you want to, do check out a small comic I drew based on the first chapter: it's on my deviantart. art/Fairy-Godbrothers-comic-page-322889229_

* * *

Chapter 2 - Only Child, Lonely Child no longer

The dinner that day was fixed easily. Celegorm had casually remarked that pheasant was plentiful in this neighbourhood - that was true: the shrieks of the green-tailed birds could be heard every now and then now that the weather had become warmer. With that Celegorm had left them and returned two hours later, a bow on his shoulder and a pheasant in his hand. Curufin, the eligible and dutiful family-father as he once had been, promptly roasted it along with roots and vegetables, and he even whipped up a dessert to present. (Slightly disappointed at the fact that there was little wine to serve with the food, he asked whether somebody should go get some from the store. Gwenniel's dad, having returned from his work, immediately reported that alcohol in this house would be used for cooking only. Curufin scoffed but served water instead.)

One good aspect in choosing this family as their host, was that the Elves needed no greater introductions as to who they were, because no one had escaped the basic facts about the history of Eldar. (When Gwenniel explained the Elves' visit to her father, he was of course surprised at how it was possible, but... seeing as his wife had already agreed to the Noldor residing in their house a while, he had not really any objections or requirements, except for that it would be up to Gwenniel to keep an eye on the new household members. The Elves assured of that they had already basic knowledge of the world of today: mainly how some things worked and how society behaved. Gwenniel had never been that good at explaining things, so she was happy about that.) That first evening she took the Elves to a small walk around the neighbourhood, just to give then an idea of how to it looked like in these parts. From the old bookshelf in the house, her mother found dictionaries, grammar books and tapes in Finnish (and some Swedish) for Curufin to read. The genius of an Elf had already picked up some Finnish phrases and, naturally, his Quenyan pronunciation fitted perfectly for the synthetic Ugric tongue.

Lying in her bed that evening, Gwenniel could not help but pondering of the eventful day. She was still half sure of that this was just some crazy daydream or some delusion, something that was not real.  
"Maybe you should write a book about this," Celegorm had laughed when Gwen expressed her thoughts. "Might get popular, just as popular as the account Ronald wrote when he hosted an Elf."  
"I doubt..." she had muttered. "A fanfic-like creation at the best, if even that, though I wonder who would read about this, anyway. You know my writing, and I'm not sure about it."  
But as Gwenniel now lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, absentminded, unravelling knots in her hair, she realised that she had no idea on how long it would take for the Elves to fulfil and complete those good deeds and the kindness stuff. She didn't even know what deeds were considered good enough - maybe today's dinner had been the first step. She reached for her phone and posted one last tweet before getting some proper sleep.

_"These Elves: enough of good deeds could take them 10 years and three novels, for all I know, because of their canonical temper and personality. #Noldor" _

Then she leaned back into her bed and grinned into her pillow. She had always been an only child. It had always been her, her mum and her dad. And the dog. But now... she was definitely ready for something new.

* * *

That night was peaceful. The morning was quiet as well. Gwenniel's father left for work around 7am and the dog usually wanted outside an hour later. Gwenniel herself woke up no later than when a knock on get door forced her to open her eyes.  
A refined, well-articulating and smooth voice called out to her in Finnish. "Your mother said she had to visit your grandmother today. She asked you to keep an eye on us."  
Gwenniel yawned and blinked her eyes, confused for a while. She had certainly slept longer than usually, no doubt tired after yesterday. Wait, yesterday? Everything came back to her. She blinked.  
"Curufin, did you just achieve every linguist's ambition of learning Finnish overnight?"  
Curufin opened the bedroom door. "Yes," he said as only a native can. "It's grammatically a rather simple language after all, and the phonetics and pronunciation is quite charming, except for that distasteful rhotic R... " He trilled his tongue as if he had used rhotics his whole life. "Sounds rather vulgar, doesn't it?" he frowned. "Even the S instead of þ seems better."  
Gwenniel let her head fall back into the pillow. "You are quite amazing, you know that?"  
Curufin gave her his characteristic smirk and returned the grammar books he had borrowed the night before. "Obviously," he said.

"_I don't even know. Except for that I am mildly jealous."_

A secret language is always good to have. Those who have siblings might be find of coming up secret codes with their brothers and sisters that no one else in the house understands. This is made even easier if you happen to be are Elves who speaks Quenya in a world that doesn't. Gwenniel had no siblings, no secret language, not even a secret alphabet. What she did have were two Elves sitting by the dining table, conversing calmly in a tongue she could not follow. Flipping to the obituary section of the latest issue of _The Economist_, she let the two men (men in the sense of gender rather than race) keep on talking - until she heard her own name being spoken.

"What? What did you say?" she looked up.

"Nothing, no nothing," Celegorm assured her. "We were just talking..."

"About what?"

"Um..."

"Gwenniel," Curufin said calmly, ignoring his brother, "do you have plans for today? Because we thought about going to town to see if there is anything we can do to show kindness."

"I was just going to stay at home, I guess, do some studying, play the cello and stuff..." The girl sighed. "Little plans, as usual."

"You play the cello?" Celegorm asked vaguely interested.

"You didn't see the instrument in her room?" Curufin scoffed.

"I haven't been into her room," his brother frowned, as if it was the most obvious thing on this planet. "Have you?"

"Let's not-" Gwenniel tried feebly to say something as the Elves' discussion slipped into Quenya again. "I was actually wondering: what is counted as doing good deeds and showing kindness? Does it have to be something really special or are small favours enough?"

The Elves looked at each other. Apparently Curufin was the one expected to answer, because he soon cleared his throat and said: "Good deeds, as defined by the Valar, are actions that are helpful, receive appreciation, come from the heart. Thus they cannot be anything too insignificant, something done out of general expected politeness or something done with your own goals as the reason."

"Well, your reasons are to get back to Valinor..."

"If it's something you would do even if it didn't help you personally," Curufin specified. Gwenniel decided that it made enough sense.

"But opening a door for someone else is not a good deed that you two would get points for?" she made sure she had understood it correctly.

"Precisely," Curufin said. "But remember that in the end it's all up to the host."

"What do you mean?"

"As our host, it is up to you to evaluate how well we have behaved," Celegorm clarified. "Mandos will give his verdict based partly on your report."

"Partly on my report," Gwen repeated. "And partly on what else?"

The Elf made a sour face. "He is a jerk, that Vala. Over 40% of whether he will deem your report on us good enough depends on his mood."

It wasn't funny in any way, but Gwenniel could not help but smile a little. Curufin saw it, frowned, and told her to stop grinning. She obeyed sheepishly and changed the subject.  
"I should go study now, if you excuse me," she said, rising up from her chair. "I still have a book I need to do notes on."

"What book?"

"This one bastard." She lifted _The Economist_ to reveal two thick books lying underneath it. She sighed and stared sadly at them. Celegorm frowned at the sight of such thick and boring looking books as these. Curufin picked up one of the thicker books.

"Introduction to Linguistics," he read out the title. "Well this should be interesting enough. My father is a linguist - he paid great attention to language and he even revised the orthography of-"

"I know," Gwenniel said. "I find languages very interesting, too. But I'm not a genius like him. I can't revise my own orthographical systems just yet. I need to study things from books written by other people so that I can get to a place where I can study the theories of other people. Only then can I start doing any research of my own."

"Seems rather stupid to me," Celegorm commented, "but fine." He picked up the other book and browsed through it. His expression changed. "Okay, it's true - these are not that difficult at all. I believe you've already read them once through by now, so learning it all..."

Gwenniel groaned and leant against the kitchen counter behind her, ignoring the rest of what the Elf was saying. It wasn't that she hadn't read the books or that she hadn't understood what they said. It was the fact that the books were about a subject she knew she was good at, but for a test she wasn't sure - after calculating it by methods of statistic probability - she would pass with high enough grades. These were her books for the University entrance exams. These books were the keys for one of the most important exams in her whole life so far.

"...and that would be a good deed, too." Celegorm finished the sentence he had been saying. Gwenniel looked up again, and saw Curufin nodding.

"Only, you can't put it that way or you will appear selfish and it won't count," the dark haired elf said as he leant his chin into his fingers. "But I don't think you are one for the job, to be honest," Curufin went on. "Your... talents lie elsewhere." His brother rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

Curufin turned to the mortal girl who stood nearby pretending she had been listening the whole time and knew exactly what they were talking about. "We - or mostly I - shall help you in your studies," he said. "It is the least we can do: we know that yesterday you didn't have any time to study at all, because you had to help us. That is why, from now on, we shall help you instead."

Gwenniel could not but quirk her eyebrows. To her it still seemed as if the Elves were but interested in helping themselves by helping her. That this was one of those ways to get her acceptance and be released. And she suddenly wasn't that sure anymore of whether she really wanted a tutor. Curufin seemed to guess her thoughts and assured her of that he would do this even if he himself got nothing from it. It was his duty, after all, he explained, to help a friend who thus far had so willingly helped him. Gwenniel thought this sounded very out of character, but she didn't object - there was something too persuading in the way Curufin spoke. (That determined shotgun-style way of providing orders and directives? Surely it was a lovely voice they were given in, but... Hmpf. Curufin was very used to persuading.)

_"I guess there is nothing surprising in that Curufin is a good teacher: he did have a son and two younger brothers."_

The problem was actually the fact that Curufin kept asking questions about all those tiny details that Gwenniel had not bothered to learn by heart. "There's no point in learning it, my father always said, if you are not going to learn it properly," Curufin replied to her complaints about not focusing on the greater picture. But as Curufin put it, there was no greater picture if one didn't learn it's full greatness. But unlike Curufin, the poor mortal girl did not have what it took to memorise every single detail. At the end of the day Gwenniel was utterly exhausted and went to bed earlier than usually - or rather she even fell asleep sooner than normally.

Before she fell asleep she could hear the Elven brothers talk silently as they stood outside, discussing something in Quenya. Wondering for a while what their subject might be, Gwenniel decided at last that it was probably just some scheme to further make her go nuts.

* * *

_"I realized I've got a party to throw. D:"_

Her mum had mentioned it that morning. Apparently, the number of relatives that wished to attend a graduation party in a few weeks was beyond Gwen's initial guess.

Celegorm and Curufin shared half-amused glances as the girl on the other side of the table sat poking her breakfast.

"It will be thirty guests!" Gwenniel moaned while having her breakfast before Curufin would tell her it was time to study again. "Thirty-one, if my uncle gets his flight from Hungary."

"You have an uncle in Hungary? That's close to one a thousand and five-hundred kilometres (somewhat over nine-hundred miles as exact locations aren't given) from here is it not?" Curufin said thoughtfully. Gwenniel nodded.

"I wish I had _my_ uncles in Hungary," Celegorm muttered, drinking his morning cuppa.

"Thirty doesn't fit," Gwen ignored him. She let her spoon fall into her müsli and promptly leaned her elbows onto the table, ignoring any teachings of manners her mother would had had her to learn. The two Elves did not see her problem. Whereas she thought this would prove an impossible feat, thirty guests was nothing compared to how many persons a normal formal dinner in the house of Fëanor could include.

At some point Gwenniel realised this, too. She looked up at the Elves, a grin forming on her lips: "You would help me, wouldn't you, even if there was nothing in it for yourself."

The Elves warily glanced at each other again.

"Well, we do live in the same household now."

"And we did promise to treat her as a sister."

"You did."

"No, we both did."

"So would you mind helping me?" Gwenniel asked eagerly, having suddenly found her inner energy again. "We need invitations, we need to plan something to eat, I need to figure out what to do with my hair... it's flat, straight and boring," Gwen said before shutting her mouth upon noticing Curufin's annoyed expression.

"You know, this might be a good way for getting back to Valinor sooner," she pointed out.

Curufin still looked annoyed, but once again he exchanged glances with Celegorm. Gwenniel could see that the brothers were trying to decide whether helping the mortal girl really was worth it. After exchanging frowns, rising eyebrows and an annoyed sigh, the Elves agreed to help out. "But remember, girl," Curufin added hastily, "we are but to help in some of the chores, not host the whole party start to finish."

"Exactly," Celegorm agreed. "In the end it's your party."

Gwenniel saved her happy-dance for later and merely nodded, assuring them of that she understood. She loved these Elves. (Uh, more than she had loved them before, that is... And not in that kind of way.) This deal actually had its advantages. The Elves could not mess around without her consent or she would simply refuse to give them a good report to show Mandos. Handling these two was actually easier than she had expected, she thought.

"Mind you, I'm not doing it just to please you," Celegorm said as if she had read her mind. "I'm doing it because people _always _say I host such great parties."

"I'm doing it because the party is going top be in the same house I currently live in, so I might as well do something," Curufin muttered, looking as unaffected as possible. Gwenniel didn't care about his grumpy-on-the-outside personality. She was just glad that these two would finally get a good deed fulfilled. And help her out.

_"Well they are not all a nuisance."_

* * *

She placed down her bow on the cello. Stuffing away the notes under a chair, she left the room and walked into the living room where two Elves had been sitting and apparently heard her play. Curufin looked as if he had been meditating. Celegorm had been reading a magazine. Whatever magazine it was, he didn't care – he merely browsed through to pass the time as the sports news on telly hadn't started yet. As Gwenniel entered the room, they both looked up. Celegorm put his finger thoughtfully on his chin.

"Well it's not bad, but still not as good as my brother..."

"Celegorm, however do you think I could possibly be better than Maglor?" Gwenniel half laughed, taking a seat.

Curufin smiled as well. "No, he meant Caranthir."

"..."

"_This how it is when you have a big-brother? Jibes and fun and stuff. Guess it's a good sign they feel comfortable enough to start joking with me. Right?"_

* * *

"You are writing again?" Celegorm asked. Gwenniel nodded, but didn't look up from her phone. "About what?"

She didn't say anything for a moment, but then glanced up at the Elf lying on the couch opposite of her armchair in the living room. "Just writing," she said, avoiding a direct answer.

"Fanfiction?" Celegorm asked with a smile. Or rather, a smirk. A smirk of someone who guessed too near the truth.

"No," Gwenniel lied.

"As long as it's not about me and Aredhel again."

The girl hoped she could shrink into the nothingness. She coped with the embarrassment by promptly deleting the plot bunny she had been typing down and folding her arms

Damn these Elves. It was because of them she was a slow writer. Her sincere apologies to her readers (in case she still had any left), were in order.

"You wanted something?"she said sharply.

Celegorm smirked. "No."

"That is just the way he is," a voice said. Curufin was standing in the doorway. "He often likes annoying others. Clearly you are not used to having brothers."

"How could I be?" Gwenniel replied. "I have always been an only child."

The Elven brothers were quiet for a moment, processing how it would feel like not to have a single brother. Unable to picture the idea, they soon brushed off their failed attempt.

"It will be different now, though," Gwenniel mused with a smile. With you two around here, I mean." The Elves did not reply. Gwenniel's mouth became a thin line and she cleared her throat. "You yourself did proclaim that you would come to regard me as your sister. You both did. And you're helping with the graduation."

"Yeah..." Celegorm said slowly. "We've never had sisters, though, so I don't know how..."

"Of course we will hold that word," Curufin interrupted. He had stepped forward. "You have been an only child all this time and now we are here: that is a sign of our goodwill in itself, is it not?" He walked over to Gwenniel, raised his hand and... for a moment he looked as if he would pull it back, but then he placed it on her shoulder as she sat still crouched in her armchair. "Yes, a sister."

Gwenniel did not move a muscle. To be acknowledged as somebody's sister... She had never considered herself very lonely or longed for a sibling in particular, but... being a sister of somebody didn't seem so bad now. She could feel a grin on her face, unable as she was to stop it.

Curufin looked at Celegorm. "We've never had sisters, but this should really be no trouble," he said. "Think of her as Aredhel or something."

Celegorm turned his eyes from his brother to the girl sitting in the armchair. He squinted and tilted his head. His face turned slightly pink. "I can't," he muttered. "But yeah, I know now what you mean."

Gwenniel counted this day as one of the happiest days in her life so far.

They would be her brothers. Not brothers by blood, but brothers by... friendship? By adoption. Both sounded strange. Housemate-brothers? Pretend-to-be-brothers? Godbrothers? What? She didn't even have godfather or a godmother, why would she have a godbrother? Then again... Those God-familymembers always fulfilled those good deeds...

Not too bad, she decided. But of course she'd never reveal this nickname to the Elves. Hearing it would probably make them forget all brotherly bonds.

* * *

Later in the evening the living room was empty except for one single person sitting on the couch.

Curufin picked up the magazine Celegorm had left on the couch. Browsing through it, he had no idea why his brother had been reading such mumbo jumbo. "Pastel colours were in season": what on earth? He skipped to another page. Horoscopes. Looking up the horoscope that would suit him, he read what it foreboded. "Venus has entered the system. You will form new bonds, bonds you had not expected..."

Venus has entered...

Curufin frowned.


	3. Licenceless

I don't know how I should properly announce it, but as you may have noticed, I have changed my penname on ffn to **GwennielOfNargothrond**. Sorry for any confusion caused, but it does fit better wíth my other usernames. And the name used in this fic, no?

A/N: "_This fic is taking its toll on me,/  
__I've procrastinated too many times before./  
__Projects keep piling in front of me,/  
__But I'mma pledge to update (at least) once more.../  
__Whoah- "_

* * *

Chapter 3 - Licenceless

"And who do we have here, then?" the elderly woman asked as she saw the youngster with the dark hair. The "youngster" of a million years of age didn't have time to reply, his mouth merely becoming a thin line as Gwenniel rushed forward to save the day.

"He is my friend, grandmother," she said with a sweet smile. "He's here with his brother."

As Gwen's grandmother eyed Curufin from head to toe, Curufin gave her a small bow. Earlier today he had been presented to Gwenniel's friends at the graduation at the school as "a cousin twice removed". Here at home, he was "a friend from abroad".

Gwenniel regretted that she was too busy to really have time to spend with the Fëanorean brothers (although they had insisted they would handle the situation themselves). She had been rushing back and forth between guests who were visiting them to congratulate her on her graduation day. Countless roses had filled a big 10 litres bucket, cards were cramming her bedside and the rainy weather prevented people from spreading outside. _Too many people_, were the words on the top of Gwenniel's mind as she rubbed her toes, tired of the high heels she was wearing. Thirty people, actually, as her uncle form Hungary had not come. Thirty people wasn't much, to be honest... and yet it was all too much.

"So Gwenniel how does it feel now, having graduated High School, it's a big thing and now you'll be starting at an university?"

"Yes," Gwenniel replied to the elderly woman (not exactly sure of whether and how she was related to her), trying not to reveal it in her voice that this was the twentieth time she was posed this same question. "Yes will." Her smile was actually genuine, though. She glanced sideways at Curufin standing in the corner of the room. He did not maybe notice her, but Gwenniel smiled towards him nonetheless. Curufin's techniques of teaching had paid off. Until the morning of the day of the entrance exam, he had questioned her on every detail and worn his most stern and annoyed expression had she given him the wrong answer. _It's not even difficult_, he had said so many times with a bored expression. And at last Gwenniel had understood. No, it was not very difficult to memorise everything. No, the test was not that hard either. Or maybe the odds just were in her favour. And when a letter from the university had arrived in mail, Gwenniel had known who to thank it for. Curufin had been the first she had showed it to.

Indeed, during these roughly two months since their arrival, the Elves and she had grown close, she deemed. Of course she could not know what they thought of her, but she knew that she had come to regard them as close friends. Not close friends as her friends from school she had known since first grade, neither like her friends online to whom she could always turn to in questions of fandom and fangirling (as she obviously could not talk about such things with the Elves themselves), but close enough. Maybe exactly like they had promised to be. Godbrothers. She smiled at the thought and distantly noticed when the elderly relative-or-not drifted away.

Celegorm was enjoying himself, having taken pouring drinks of chapagne as his own duty. As the social person he was, he was talented in the art of chitchatting with strangers. Gwenniel was glad for that at least he did not cause any scenes. Causing scenes... that had really been her nightmare the day before.

Curufin, not as sociable among people he deemed bothersome, had withdrawn to a corner where he spoke to people if he had to, but avoided getting in the centre of attention. It was not that Curufin viewed the guests below his status (at least Gwen dearly hoped he didn't, though you never knew with him) – it was just that he had little to discuss with them. Yes, the weather was foul, yes, he was a friend of Gwen's; yes, he knew the way to the bathroom. After a few hours Gwen found the fourth son merely lurking in his room, sitting in a chair with a notepad into which he was scribbling something. As the girl asked what he was up to and whether he already had had enough to eat, he looked at her with a sad smile, a rather condescending expression maybe, and said that he would leave his room once the house was empty. To which Gwen rolled her eyes but left him undisturbed.

The house did empty, once everybody had had enough coffee and patted Gwenniel's head at least once and when Gwen started informing people of that the whole graduation class would have one last meet-up at the local restaurant which meant that she would unfortunately have to leave her own party in less than – at this point she looked at a watch and exclaimed "holy sh-, why did no one tell me it's 30 mins?". Even as the last guest was leaving and Gwen was packing a handbag, the door to the guest room opened and Curufin sneaked out.

"Finally gone?" he asked Celegorm who stood by a kitchen counter sipping chapagne as if the celebration was still going on.

"Yes, brother," the blonde replied. "And about time you come sneaking back."

Curufin made a "hn" sound, but said nothing.

"I'll be going now!" they heard Gwen call out from the front door. "I'll call if I need someone to drive me home, okay?"

They said nothing. Gwen peeked into the kitchen. "I said, I'll call if-"

"We heard."

"Just tell my mum and dad, 'kay?" With that, the door slammed shut. Celegorm poured another drink.

* * *

Late in the evening, closer to midnight, the Noldorin brothers were the only ones awake. Flipping the channels, Curufin finally landed on the newscast. He wasn't the kind of person to bother with the annoying styling reality shows or the obnoxious sitcoms that telly would broadcast a Saturday night in a house with no pay-channels. Apparently a rain-front would hit soon, the Euro was still in deep crisis and a rover named Curiosity had been set off to Mars. Curufin took the news as good opportunity to learn more languages of Men, as well as compare the society of today to the one he had come from. (So far his observations pointed out that Arda had been better off had Elves not left it.)

Celegorm took a seat beside him on the couch, balancing a glass of chapagne on his index finger. Curufin ignored his brother, the glass in his hand, and his frowning at the news.

"No sports tonight?"

"No. Why would you watch it anyway? Men are so slow and clumsy," Curufin muttered, placing the remote further from the blonde.

"That's why. It's fun. Unlike this."

"You don't think this is at least somewhat interesting?" Curufin replied. The reporter on the screen finished her story concerning a theft in the Varkaus-region of Finland and the pictures changed into reports of a meteoroid heading towards Earth. Celegorm stared at the artist's concept of the incident with a blank look. Unimpressed as usual - Curufin supposed he'd soon go to bed, anyway.

"Turn up the volume," Celegorm said. "What's a meteoroid?"

"It's a stone from the heavens," Curufin replied without turning his head.

"One of those black ones? That hit the ground?" Celegorm frowned.

"Yes."

"It didn't look like one of those to me," Celegorm sighed and took a sip from his glass. Curufin half scoffed, half laughed. It had just been how some artist had interpreted the space stone. "No, but Curufin," Celegorm insisted, guessing his brother's thoughts. "I meant the small shoot before that, when the lady was still speaking."

Curufin hadn't anything to reply to that, the next piece of news already rolling in, but he didn't have time for that either before the phone rang and he rose up to get it.

"Can someone pick me up?" Gwenniel's voice at the other end of the line was half muffled by the noises in the background. Still inside the restaurant due to the chilly weather, she was calling home at last, just as she promised, and Curufin sighed.

"Yes, I'll come."

"Well, I'm sure dad or mum-"

"They are asleep."

"Oh," the girl replied, "I thought-" And then the background noises took over again.

Curufin sighed. _Why did this feel like he was once again scolding his son Celebrimbor for being late from somewhere?_ No further reply came for a while, so Curufin decided to just put down the phone, but called out a "Wait there for now," that received no answer and turned to his brother who had followed him. "Right?"

Celegorm nodded, putting down his glass. "Sure, we'll get there," he said. "As long as you find the keys."

* * *

The car drove up in front of the door, and Gwenniel waved a quick bye to her friends before clambering into the back-seat.

"I am sorry you had to come and get me," she said while fastening her seatbelt. "All my friends either live in the other direction or will stay out a lot longer (or are too drunk to drive)."

"It's your loss," Celegorm sitting behind the steering wheel rode on the lamp-lit road. "Missing out on a party like that."

Curufin said nothing, although his expression changed slightly (still remaining unfathomable).

As soon as Gwenniel noticed neither of the Elves were talkative tonight, she picked up her phone from her bag to check the time again. Goddess, it really was rather late. Later than she usually came home anyway. At least she had two Elves to pick her up.

"Really, I am grateful you came for me," she said.

Celegorm looked back at her. "Well you called and we had nothing better to do, since Curufin wouldn't watch the sports."

"... also, I didn't know you had a licence. But that's cool. Much more convenient actually," Gwenniel added with a smile. Celegorm didn't respond the smile.

"Licence?"

"..."

Curufin cursed. Loudly. "You don't need a licence to ride a horse," he said. "But you better slow down by those polices by that crossing."

Gwenniel shut her eyes tightly, wanting escaping the situation. What a disastrous turn. Indeed, two policemen were standing by the next crossing, signalling for their car to stop. But why? Celegorm was not driving too fast or on the wrong line, despite not possessing a proper driver's licence. Then it hit her.

"Oh, it's the last day of school for everybody so there will be more drivers who..." her guess was confirmed by the small tube in the policeman's hand. "...they'll want you to blow into that."

"Blow what?" Celegorm said, his voice incredulous, turning to look at Gwenniel again, not understanding what on earth he was supposed to "blow".

"Keep an eye-contact," Curufin hissed.

"Rather look at the road!" Gwenniel whimpered, hiding her face in her hands. "And make sure you've got your seatbelts on." If the Elves didn't have a licence, they would get in trouble. At least Celegorm bore absolutely no signs of being affected by alcohol, so that was a major plus.

The policeman bade Celegorm to exit the car. Heart beating fast, Gwenniel stepped outside as well with Curufin following him. They shivered in the cold night, as the stern looking policeman was handed a breathalyser by his colleague, a policewoman who looked equally stern.

"Sir, would you mind," he said to Celegorm and shoved the tube to him. The Noldo looked unsure of what he should do.

"Breath deeply into the breathalyser," the man ordered. Celegorm glanced at Gwenniel and Curufin. Gwen nodded at him, signalling him that he should just do what they told him to. Play nice just this once. So Celegorm breathed. And Gwenniel held her breath. And forgot to start breathing again when the digits on the tiny led screen stopped at 0.24%.

Curufin slammed Gwen on the back as she started to wheeze. Celegorm, meanwhile, but his lip, unsure of what would happen now. But the police officers merely glanced at each other in surprise.

"The legal limit for driving is at 0.05%," the female said. "And with your level, I am surprised you even walk that straight." She examined Celegorm and wrinkles formed on her forehead. "Please recite the alphabet while standing on one leg."

Celegorm almost grinned at the silly sounding request. He lift his foot and began reciting the letters with ease: " A, b, c, d, e, f..."

"You mortals have a different tolerance," Curufin whispered to Gwenniel as the cops watched Celegorm's performance with surprise and suspicion. "We are Elves – and our conditions are different anyway. But it doesn't change the fact that he's been drinking champaign and what not pretty much the whole evening, even though it's all too weak to affect him. "  
Gwenniel moaned silently. "And I suppose you have been drinking, too?" she replied. Curufin nodded. Obviously.

"...anto, ampa, anca, unque, númen, malta, noldo!, nwalme..." Celegorm had gotten carried away and had moved onto the tengwar while still gracefully balancing on his left tiptoe, clearly enjoying himself at performing his task over expectations.

"That's enough, brother," Curufin interrupted him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I believe you don't have to recite... that..."

Gwenniel nodded. No need for the police to start wondering what on earth the blonde had talked about. Celegorm put down his leg and looked at the police, who quietly talked to each other. At last the policeman cleared his throat.

"Clearly, the alcohol has not affected you," he said, and Gwenniel felt a relief fill her heart.

"However," he continued, "you have consumed a significant amount of spirits. As the level is too high, we have no choice but to arrest you for driving while under the influen- er, after drinking."

Arrest. Oh no, no, no, nono, no good. They couldn't take him in. Gwenniel would have given anything to be able to just take the Elves by their hands and disapparate right on the spot. But she couldn't. So she held her mind resolute.

"Take me in as well."

The policeman looked at her in mild surprise. "Miss, it's for him to clear his head. I do-"

"And me. I am his brother."

Curufin had stepped forward. His expression was a typical unfathomable face, but his determination and his voice signalled a sense of authority and assured Gwenniel of that everything would turn out right.

* * *

So now, asides from being Gwenniel's godbrothers, distant cousins and friends, the two Noldor were also immigrants. Excellent. Without passports. It turned out they weren't from Finland when they were asked for their social security numbers and it turned out they had none. They couldn't exactly explain from where they came either, so as for now they were merely under control. But somehow, from somewhere Curufin pulled out a temporary foreign drivers licences. Inside the Black Mary, Gwenniel had seen him working on something on his notebook. She didn't ask him at the time, but... as incredible as it seemed, he had at least managed to fool the police. Somehow. They were probably just lucky that the police was especially busy tonight.

The cell wasn't bad. It was a cell where you were put for one night only and you knew you'd get out the following day after you had cleared your head. It was almost cosy. In the way a tiny room where you have to settle in as if it was your real home is. Like a playhouse. At least the three of then had a shared cell - at first the officer had intended to guide Gwen to another cell on the basis of separating males from females (not that he apparently, as seen from his curious glances, slightly speculated the Elves' gender). The trio had, however, assured him of that sharing a cell would be perfectly fine, (albeit somewhat crammed). Because Gwenniel did not want to leave the Noldor alone under these circumstances. (And she didn't want to be alone, either.) And even the Noldor themselves seemed to realize that this unfamiliar situation was not the time for their inner prideful Elven Lords to take over.

The two beds would serve as their benches tonight. Gwenniel had earlier been tired but was no longer and the Elves generally needed little sleep. There would be no sleeping tonight anyway.

Her feet out of her shoes, Gwenniel sat on the low bed stretching her legs, staring glumly at the grey floor. Opposite of her sat the two brothers, sharing the other bed, Curufin with eyes closed, deep in his thoughts and Celegorm twiddling his thumbs.

"It's my fault, isn't it," Celegorm grumbled.

"It's okay," Gwenniel tried. "We'll get out tomorrow and any fines will be paid."

"It's still my fault. We got arrested because of me."

"Well wasn't it rather everybody's fault? Celegorm, you- "

"Admit it."

"No it's really not- "

"Gwen!" Curufin interrupted the girl, looking more than annoyed, his voice dangerously tense.

"Stop behaving like a silly fangirl. It was Celegorm's fault and even _he_ knows and admits it, so be quiet."

Gwenniel closed her mouth, her cheeks reddening.

"Please," Curufin added hesitantly. Gwenniel nodded. She understood.

"Then again, these laws are rather silly. 0.2% is nothing for an Elf. Had they known what we are..." Celegorm muttered, ignoring his brother.

"Technically, we're not even Elves at the moment," Curufin reminded him. "We are merely "puppets". If these people knew that they haven't even captured what they would count as real people..."

Gwenniel added nothing for a while. Then:

"Well, speaking of real people: at least you (I still don't know how you did it, Curvo) have a licence. As for passports.. they've got your papers now at least," she said glumly. "Including your fingerprints."

"We should probably get a visa," Curufin said. "But I don't want more complications."

"Next time we'll just stay away from authorities," Celegorm laughed dryly.

"I don't want a next time, either," Curufin replied.

The small cell became quiet again as its inhabitants fell deep into their own thoughts. After a while Gwenniel's head started to nod and eventually she fell asleep, curled up on her bed, her shoes kicked off onto the floor, and her arm as her pillow.

For a while the Elves merely sat in the silence of the dim light in the cell at night.

"I'm tired," Celegorm said quietly. "Of this. We're in a prison. How are we going to prove anything to Mandos now?"

Curufin looked up at his brother. "Do you think we should give up on that?"

"Well, no... unless that's what you are suggesting."

Curufin's eyes were hidden in the darkness, but a pale light streaming from a small window lit up his slow grin. "Hm, I might have done some planning," he said.

* * *

_TBC, I swear. _


End file.
